The Doctor is in
by BeyondxNekoxMassacre
Summary: Ponyboy needed help. He needed to forget. Dr Krankzinnig helped people forget. But at what cost...-Ponycentric- (Co-written by TheWeirdoOutsideYourBedroom)


Title: The Doctor is in...  
By: BeyondxNekoxMassacre & TheWeirdoOutsideYourBedroom  
Summary: Ponyboy needed help. He needed to forget. Dr Krankzinnig helped people forget. But at what cost... _(Co-written by TheWeirdoOutsideYourBedroom)_

**A/N: Hey guys, it's been a while since I wrote anything but I've been really busy with school, my weekend job, being in and out of hospital and school music concerts (my band is preparing to enter the school's band contest next month) but I got together with a friend of mine, TheWeirdoOutsideYourBedroom (you should know her), and together our twisted minds brought this into the world, and when I say twisted I mean TWISTED. Enjoy :) -Euro**

* * *

It was the guilt that did it. The guilt that sent Ponyboy into that long darkened tunnel known as depression and he hated it. No, despised it. Despised it with ever last fibre in his body, depression wasn't a side effect of what had happened to him, sadness was a side effect of depression and he knew that. It had been nearly three years since the death of his best friend and he'd got over it, so what had caused his relapse. Thinking, that's what.

"Stop beating yourself up over it Pony," is what Darry said, "you came to terms with it once, you just need to give yourself time again."

Time. It was always time. He needed to give himself time. But that wasn't what Ponyboy wanted to give himself, he was sick to the back teeth of people telling him to give him time. He'd given himself time before, many months of constant nightmares, self torture, self blame and fucking time. What had it done for him, nothing. Three years on he was back to square one, plagued by nightmares and wallowing in self hate and despair and Ponyboy wanted it to end.

"Just move on with this Pony, don't think about it."

That was what Soda told him but it was hard _not _to think about it. Ever day, hour, minute and second it was looming in his thoughts. It had to forget somebody getting gunned down under a street light. It was hard to forget your best friend's dying words as he lost the fight for life. It wasn't easy to forget. Even when he wasn't in the grip of the crippling grasp of depression the look on Johnny's face after died was one never far from his subconscious, that peaceful look. No more pain. No more fear. The beauty of oblivion, never feeling, never fearing and never having to be told to give time. Ponyboy didn't want oblivion though, he just wanted to forget and that was exactly what he was going to do.

xXx

"Dr Krankzinnig, he'll help you forget, trust me my brother went to him."

Martin was the name of Ponyboy's friend and the person who suggested a doctor to help him forget his problems. He couldn't afford therapy before and he doubted he could afford it now, but took the card from Martin and went to the clinic anyway. When Ponyboy thought of a clinic, he thought of a perfectly white building that was immaculate and there were doctors and nurses who wouldn't leave a spot of dirt anywhere, but he was very much mistaken. The clinic (if you could call it that) where Dr. Krankzinnig worked was a tiny grey building with graffiti on both the inside and out. The clinic was on the second floor of a run down apartment and was little more than a makeshift waiting room and the doctors office (which Ponyboy doubted would be any nicer than the exterior)

"_I am really here?_" Ponyboy thought miserably trying to get comfortable in the chair he was sitting in.

Looking around at the dismal surroundings, the ceiling had patch multiple patches of mould on it as did the walls. There were a few out of date newspapers that were wet and very much unreadable. Ponyboy was beginning to question why he had listened to Martin, he was known to go off and get high behind the school building at breaks and lunches. So why did he listen to him, because he wanted to forget. That was the only reason he had listened, because Martin had insisted that Dr. Krankzinnig would help him forget, that was the only reason he was there, so he could forget.

"Ponyboy Curtis..."

Ponyboy looked up. The man standing in front of the office door was looking down at him. He was tall, thin and pale with dark shadows under both his eyes that looked as though somebody had punched him in the face more than once over. His white jacket was so long that it went down past his knees and trailed along in the floor. There was a pinkish colour that was staining the bottom of the jacket and it was also on the sleeves, Ponyboy frowned at this detail but over looked it as he followed the person (whom he presumed was Dr. Krankzinnig) into the office.

"Please, sit," the man said "well, I am Dr. Krankzinnig, it's a...plea-sure to meet you."

Ponyboy sat on the chair glancing at the walls of the office, there were posters and pictures of peoples head pasted on the walls in a mismatch fashion as well as many blurry photographs that looked as though whoever had taken them had a terrible case of the shakes, this unnerved Ponyboy slightly, what sort of doctor but blurry photographs on his office walls. There were no degree certificates anywhere, nothing that remotely resembled a normal medical instrument.

"Now why are you here," Dr. Krankzinnig asked.

"A friend of mine said you help people forget," Ponyboy said quietly feeling fourteen years old again.

"Oh, I see. What is it; nightmares, headaches, hallucinations perhaps?" Dr. Krankzinnig asked.

"I want to forget about seeing a friend of mine being killed and another dying in front of me," Ponyboy stated even quieter.

Through that whole conversation Dr. Krankzinnig didn't even turn around once he stood, back to Pony leaning on the crack oak desk, his voice light but thick with a clear Dutch accent.

"That's a shame, nobody ever wants to see their friends die," Dr. Krankzinnig said, but there was no sympathy in his voice "now, let me help you forget."

That last line was filled with venom, suddenly it was clear what was in the blurry photographs. In fact they weren't blurry at all, every photograph was of a person lying in varying sizes of pools of blood. Ponyboy jumped up before feeling the prick of a syringe entering his neck, his legs collapsed from under him, his breathing was shallow and everything went dark.

xXx

When Ponyboy came too Dr. Krankzinnig was standing over him with what looked like a corkscrew. It was lined up against Ponyboy's head, that was when he noticed he was now tied to the chair he had been sitting in, leather straps that had been buckled at the back bound him to the chair no matter how hard he fought against them they were not budging (now Ponyboy seriously regretted taking Martin's advice).

"You said you wanted to forget," Dr. Krankzinnig whispered in Ponyboy's ear "I'll help you do just that.'

The cold point of the screw was digging into Ponyboy's head, a small stream of blood began to slide down the side of his face, down past his shoulder and into the floor in steady drips. Ponyboy grunted in pain and flinched away from the screw but only proceeded in dislodging it from his head causing yet more of his blood to spill onto the floor. Pain exploded in his head and threatened to knock him into unconsciousness. Once again Dr. Krankzinnig plunged the screw into Ponyboy's skull but this time with more force. Blood sprayed from the ever growing hole in Ponyboy's head and splashed over the floor, walls and Dr. Krankzinnig.

"You said forget, I never said alive," Dr. Krankzinnig purred licking up Ponyboy's blood from his hands.

That was when the metal point of the screw dug into Ponyboy's skull cracking it. Ponyboy seized up and fell sideways, the leather straps creating grooves in his arms. Nothing passed in his vision and he couldn't remember anything, he couldn't move and he couldn't forget either. Dr. Krankzinnig wiped his hands down on his jacket that was coated in fresh, warm blood. Heading to his desk he pulled out a camera pointing it at Ponyboy.

"Smile boy," Dr. Krankzinnig whispered before taking the photograph.

Ponyboy Curtis was just another one who wanted to forget...

* * *

**A/N: Thank you Mia for this idea and being an awesome muse and as I said before, twisted right. Weird. Okay. This story is slightly inspired by the '**Creature Feature**' song '**Dr. Sawbones**' if you go listen to it you'll understand why. Well whatever, please review/fav and I'll see you again. **

**-Euro**


End file.
